


too good to be true

by days4daisy



Category: Dark Matter (TV)
Genre: Extra Treat, Hallucinations, M/M, Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-04 06:06:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12764712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: Three grins. “I never regret anything, man.” It’s the first thing he’s said today that sounds like him.





	too good to be true

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Damkianna](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Damkianna/gifts).



> I loved this prompt so much :D Happy holidays!

Six trips between memory and hallucination. Hazmat masks. Anders. A wife and son he does not remember. Pill bottles with garbled letters, complete nonsense. Six is dying, the Android says. The neurotoxin is messing with his brain.

He tries to latch onto this current moment. The infirmary, cot hard on his back, beeping vital monitors, the distant hum of the Raza's engines. “You still with me, buddy?” Three is perched on the empty cot across from Six. His brow is creased like he's worried. Things must be pretty bad if Three is worrying about him.

Three hops off the cot and closes their distance warily. “Been staring into space since I got here," he says. "Toxin messing with you?”

“I keep seeing things," Six says, "but they don’t make sense. Memories maybe, or I'm losing my mind.” Six scrubs a hand against his face. Pressure throbs against his temples, but he won’t take the pills again. Maybe Six is going crazy, but he can’t read the bottles. If he can’t read them, he’s not taking them, at least until the toxin is out of his bloodstream. If Six is going to die, might as well go feeling as close to himself as possible.

“Need the robot?” Three asks.

“Not much she can do for dying, right?” Six smiles weakly at his own joke, but Three doesn't. His mouth pulls down in disapproval, another sign that Six must be in bad shape. “Any luck with the subspace communication?” Six asks. It’s a gamble bringing up the colonies, but it’s better than trying to navigate a concerned Three.

Three shakes his head, jaw clenching. “Dead air,” he mutters. It looks like Three wants to hand Six’s ass to him again about the danger he’s putting the colonists in, but he bites his tongue and sulks in silence.

Six doesn't regret his decision to keep the location of the colonists' meeting secret. Any risk, no matter how small, of the corporations discovering the coordinates is too great to take. On the other hand, Three giving a damn about the autonomous worlds is a marvel. Isn’t this greater picture conscience what Six has always wanted from Three? Seems unfair to get on him for having his heart in the right place for once.

Assuming that’s what’s going on here. Six feels like something is off, but he can’t put his finger on it. Must be the toxin. “Look,” he says, “I get that you want to help, and I appreciate it. I do, but I can’t-”

“I get it.” Three isn’t looking at him; he’s looking at the screen with Six’s vital readouts, same one Six gawked at not long ago. It looks like complete b.s. to Six, bogus characters that might as well be hieroglyphics.

“Can you...read that?” Six asks.

Three snorts. “Do I look like I’ve got a med degree?” He sighs and slumps. “The robot says you’re dying, that's all I know.”

“I’ll be fine,” Six says. He has his doubts, with the visions and the blackouts, but he has no choice but to have faith. They’ve faced worse and come through ok. He thinks about Two’s nanite failure and Three shot through the chest. They made it through alright, and Six will too. He has to. Too many people are counting on him, and he isn't going to let them down without a fight.

Three leans against a side of Six’s cot. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s ok to be scared, man," he says. "I’m pretty fucking terrified, to be honest with you.”

Six chuckles. He appreciates the sentiment, but he doubts Three has ever been ‘pretty fucking terrified’ about anything, especially something involving him. “Don’t be,” Six says. “I’ve got this. We’ve survived worse, right?”

“You’re so…” Three hangs his head, looking amused and sad all at once. He hesitates. “You’re always looking out for us. It’s alright to be looked after for once.”

Six arches a brow. It’s not that he thinks Three wants anything to happen to him. They’re past Hyperion-8 and the mistake Six made selling out the Raza. Six isn't sure if they're friends, exactly. But they're crew, they trust each other, and he's sure Three would rather have him around than not.

But this show of emotion is different for him. This is…

Six startles at the hand that takes his without warning. Three talks before Six can ask what he’s doing. “You’re rubbing off on me, man.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t think I surprised myself with the colonists thing earlier?" Three says. "You’re right, I never gave a rat’s ass about them. I got on your case about not giving us the coordinates earlier, and it hit me.” Three looks him in the eye. “I don’t want to lose you.” His seriousness cracks into an unsure smile. "Weird, huh?"

“Very weird,” Six agrees slowly. This reaction is bizarre, but Six finds himself oddly comforted by it. Three's grip is secure, and his concern is strangely touching.

Six knows better than to be pulled in by these rare moments of vulnerability from Three. They may be on better terms, but nothing makes Three clam up faster than being called on his own feelings. It's so tempting, though. Worry wavers in Three's eyes, and his brow is folded in an anxious knot. Affection twitches through Six's fingers.

“You'd better be fine,” Three says. “If you’re not, I don’t know what the hell I’ll do.”

“You’ll keep going without me,” Six protests quietly. “You’ll keep the crew safe. You’ll look after Five.”

He frowns at the break in Three's laugh; it's too high, a little crazy. “Come on, you know I can’t be you for Fiver." Three glares. "You’re going to get through this damn thing and be you again, got it? She needs you.” By the hitch in Three's voice, Five may not be the only one who needs him.

No, no way. Six is hearing things, seeing things. Three doesn't- this isn't like him at all.

“Three.” Six blinks at the second hand cupping his. Three's touch is warm and surprisingly gentle, and Six has to fight not to pull their joined fingers close. “I’ll be ok,” he says, looking at their hands. Maybe he's imagining things, but he swears he feels Three's fingers shaking around his.

Uneasy, Three pulls back. “Yeah. Quick blood thing and you're good as new.” He crosses his arms, a little red in the face. Is he embarrassed? What the hell is going on?

“Hey.” Six puts on a reassuring smile. “Thanks, for looking out for me.” He pats Three’s shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. This is uncharted territory with Three. Any moment Six expects to be called out on being condescending or trying to milk this condition for all its worth.

Three leans into Six's touch, and his arms relax to his sides. Six bites his cheek to keep from gaping openly. Just the hint of added pressure makes something flip dangerously in Six's stomach. The gesture, hand resting on Three's shoulder, takes on an intimacy Six never intended. But, deep down, he knows he welcomes it. Three's shoulder is firm and rounds nicely under his palm. This isn't smart, Six thinks, but his thumb still traces Three's collar bone through his t-shirt. He can explain it away if he needs to, just a moment of weakness in a dire situation.

Six barely has time to register the hand on his thigh. The weight of Three's fingers is just sinking through Six's slacks when he finds Three's mouth covering his. His lips are soft, and Six startles back, eyes wide. Three look just as stunned, mouth open and silent.

“What was that?” Six asks.

“I, um.” Three frowns at the hand he still has on Six’s leg. A few seconds pass before he seems to register that the limb belongs to him and jerks it back. “You’re getting worse," Three says, like he's accusing Six of something. "The blackouts. All the crazy stuff you're saying, like you can’t read your own med charts, you won’t help the colonists, you want me to _look after Fiver_ -”

“You’re playing me,” Six argues, and he hates that he sounds more hurt than annoyed. “There’s no way you want this.”

Three turns away, anger tight in his jaw. “You’re _dying_ , you bastard.” His voice is rough and jarring. “It just happened, I don't know.”

“It...just happened?”

“Yeah!” Three tries to grin, but it looks manic. “You’re making me soft. This is your fault-”

“My fault?”

“You just had to get yourself pumped full of poison, didn't you?" Three jabs a finger in his face. “Now you want me to look after the crew? You want us to carry on?  _Shit_ , Six, what the hell am I supposed to do?” His eyes are bleared over, like he's perplexingly close to tears. He’s breathing fast, knuckles digging into his thighs. This is insane, but something inside Six breaks.

Six can't help himself. He places hands on Three's shoulders and offers a comforting squeeze. Three’s answering breath is shaky, and Six stares, awed. “I’ll be fine,” he says quietly. "You'll be fine too, ok?"

Three huffs. " _I'll_ be fine? Fuck, Six." When he leans in this time, Six is ready for him.

Their second kiss is careful, nothing like Six would have expected. In the dead of night, alone with his own thoughts, Six has pictured moments far more heated than this. A fight spilling over into bodies tangled and twisting. An argument won or lost by lips and teeth in the privacy of Six's quarters. Three is as hot headed as they come, rash, stupid; and Six has spent too much time wondering what it would be like to figure him out. What it would be like to have this, just one time.

A thumb traces Six's cheekbone, and Six shivers at the touch. “Asshole,” Three mutters, and Six's pulse stutters.

“Yeah.” Six traces a finger down the scar on Three’s cheek and marvels when Three nuzzles into his hand. He kisses the palm and noses at Six's fingers. Six's eyes widen at the odd affection. “You’re going to regret this when it turns out I’m fine,” he says weakly.

Three grins. “I never regret anything, man.” It’s the first thing he’s said today that sounds like him.

***

“I didn’t pop ya too hard, did I?”

Six glares from his infirmary bed, cold compress to his nose. Nothing broken, no bleeding. Doesn’t mean Three's cheap shot didn’t sting like hell, though. Six is still waiting for his ears to stop ringing. “I’ll live,” he mutters, and Three grins in the doorway.

He seems to take Six's temper as an invitation to enter. “Sorry, man," Three says, though his snicker suggests otherwise. "Next time I’ll wait til you finish talking.”

“If there’s a next time, you’ll be icing your face next to me,” Six warns. Three raises innocent hands, beaming. He looks so damn pleased with himself, it's hard to stay mad at him. But Six manages an admirable scowl and tosses his compress down the cot.

“So,” Three plants himself next to Six on the mattress, “what’s the prognosis? You good?”

“I’ve got a bed rest directive from the Android,” Six says, “but yeah, I’m good. Probably be out of it for awhile, but no major damage.”

“We’re lucky your ol’ pal Anders turned up with the coordinates.” Three’s amusement turns to curiosity. “What the hell was going on over there? Why’d those white coats have a gun on you?”

Six doesn’t know how to explain, he’s been trying to wrap his brain around what happened since they returned to the Raza. “They were trying to get the coordinates of the council of autonomous worlds’ meeting." It's the only fact Six is sure on. "I guess they gave up on getting information the easy way. You and Two picked a hell of a time to drop in.”

“Ferrous bastards” Three mutters sympathetically. “So, what was that thing on your head? Shock torture or something?”

“It was…” Six frowns. “I don't know, virtual reality. They were projecting you all in my head. Trying to use you to get me to give up the location of the council meeting.”

Three arches a brow. “So what, I was in your head asking about the colonists?"

Six nods. “You told me I’d convinced you to help people. That by not disclosing their location, I was proving I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“Wait.” Three’s brows rise skeptically. “ _I_ wanted to help people? Me? And you couldn’t tell the whole thing was bullshit?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Six chuckles despite himself. It does sound crazy now, saying it outloud. And he's only told Three about the colonists part. The rest of the vision, he's not touching with a ten foot pole. “They were doing weird stuff to my head, man."

“Sounds like a trip." Three's smile turns serious. "Didn’t look good when we couldn’t find you. I mean, _I_ knew you'd be fine, but the kid, you know? Fiver was worried sick about you.”

“Right, I’m sure she was the only one.” Three is laughing, and Six lets himself relax. The projections must have been doing crazy things to his nervous system. This feels like the first time he’s let his guard down in days.

“Don’t flatter yourself.” Three gives his leg a friendly pat. “We’re glad you’re back, buddy.”

“Yeah...me too.” Six’s attention turns to the hand that’s decided to stay on his thigh. Three’s fingers are red on the knuckles, a long scar across the top. “What are you-” His voice breaks when Three kisses him.

The hand on Six’s leg traces up to his stomach, and Three nods to urge his lips open. Bewildered, Six, finds himself unable to pull away. Three's tongue teases between his lips, drawing a startled groan. This is weird. This is wrong. But Six feels warm all over, and he drinks the moment in dizzily. Three smells good, he tastes better.

Three leans into him, and Six braces a hand in the small of his back for balance. The curve fits his palm perfectly, and Three makes a sharp, pleased sound. Six shivers under him, his gasp equal parts desire and confusion.

“What the hell?” Six asks when he's finally able. His eyes are wide, hands balled into fists.

Three shrugs, smile vague. “Sorry for the nose,” he says, and leaves without further comment. Like what he just did was natural, like all of this isn't insane. Perplexed, Six's fingers ghost against his lips.

This has to be real. Six broke the projections! Two and Three got him out of Ferrous Corp!

But, there's no way Three would ever…

Six frowns and gets up, heading for the bridge.

***

“Hey!” Three greets Six with a salute as he strolls into the infirmary. “Look who’s back in the land of the living.”

“For good, I hope,” Six says. He checks the pill bottle in his lap for the tenth time in the past thirty minutes. He can read the label and the ingredients list makes sense. Relieved, Six pops three of the painkillers into his mouth. He huffs when he finds Three watching him. “Killer headache," he adds, "but besides that, can’t complain.”

“Good.” Three crosses his arms. “What’d they do to you?”

“Hard to explain. It was like virtual reality." Six frowns, trying to put the experience into words. Deja vu gnaws at the back of his mind. "I knew something was off, you know? Gave them a taste of their own medicine.”

“Ferrous bastards," Three grumbles. "Whatever you dished out, I’m sure it wasn’t enough.” At Six’s raised brow, he shrugs. “Look, I'm not like you, man. Colonists want to unite? Great. Not my fight. But Niemann's a dick, so is everyone who works for him. If you put a hurting on them, they got what they deserved.”

Six nods at the sentiment, it sounds like the Three he knows. But he can't help the unease churning in his gut. It makes him squint at Three, looking for something he can't see.

He has to know. "Come here a sec," he says.

Three cocks his head curiously. “Already here, buddy.”

“I mean," Six pats a side of his cot, "Here." Three's eyes narrow at the suggestion. He glares at the mattress like it's personally out to get him, but he crosses the infirmary floor after a pause. Warily, Three leans against the bed. 

“Ok?" Three frowns. "What are we-” He goes corpse-still when Six grabs the front of his shirt and plants a kiss on his mouth. Six isn't sure what to expect. To be decked, probably? Will that prove all of this is real?

It doesn't happen. Three's paralyzed shock becomes an awkward response. His lips nudge tentatively against Six's, and his hands ball against the mattress for balance. 

When their contact breaks, Three's eyes open slowly. He's not all here for a moment, taking a breath, his eyes glazed and uncertain. Then, he scowls. “What was that?”

It's not the punch Six thought he might get, but it sounds like Three. Satisfied, a little disappointed, Six lets go of Three's shirt. "Had to check," he explains. “Weird few days.”

“There’s weird and there’s-” Three's eyes go cold. “Wait, why would you have to check that? What'd those sons of bitches do to you?” Something dangerous edges the words.

“What?" Six falters.

His silence only seems to make Three more convinced. Three is too still, stone serious. He isn't kidding like he often does, smirking up the Raza's reputation as baddest of the bad. Three thinks Six was hurt. He wants to murder someone.

"You should have killed them," Three says quietly. "I should have-"

"Three, stop.” Six braces hands on Three's shoulders. He feels anger knotted tight under his fingers. His heart is pounding. "What you're thinking, it didn't happen," he says.

It takes a minute. Six holds Three's glare until he stops seeing red and a hint of doubt creeps in. Three's shoulders slump finally, and his glower softens to confusion. Six releases the breath he realizes he's been holding. This is stupid, Six thinks, as he pulls his hands from Three's shoulders. He misses the warmth as soon as he does.

“Never mind," Six says. "I had to be sure this is real, that’s all.”

“Never mind?” Three gapes. "What the hell, Six, you can't just- then- never mind?" His mouth twists, sourly unimpressed. If not for the situation Six would smile at the petulance of the expression.

Six blew it. Not that there was anything _to_ blow, but without confirmation of Three's lack of interest, Six could have kept up his harmless ideas. No risk in wanting something he knew better than to try for. Now, though, he's messed everything up.

"I shouldn't have done that," Six says, even though it's a lie. "I'm sorry." The apology is true, at least.

Three shakes his head, aggravated. "You dumbass.”

Six straightens against the cot, but Three is still able to bridge hands on either side of his body. He has a knee on the mattress when he barrels in.

This kiss is more certain, sudden and self-assured. Six should shove him off, but he finds himself wrapping an arm around Three's waist instead. His hand flexes tentatively in the small of Three's back. The arch of his spine is dizzying, and the sound Three makes sends a shudder licking down Six's body. 

“Never mind?” Three grumbles roughly. “Asshole.”

Six chuckles. Maybe he should have seen this coming after all.

*The End*


End file.
